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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945822">Izzy's New Neighbor; or, How Duff McKagan Helped His Friend With Geriatric Hippie Vibes Get Laid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothBunny/pseuds/GothBunny'>GothBunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Guns N' Roses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Duff is a Good Friend, First Dates, Izzy's Black Lace Shirt, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Semi-Public Sex, the smut will come i promise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22945822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothBunny/pseuds/GothBunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Izzy was alright with being the "grandma" friend who didn't go out to parties, didn't know much about pop-culture or current fashion trends, and was constantly being scandalized by stories of Slash's conquests. Sure, it wasn't ideal, but when a lack of red blood cells left you looking like a sallow-faced corpse and you were exhausted all the time, going out to party late into the night wasn't really enjoyable. And that was alright with him, until his new incredibly gorgeous neighbor started flirting with him and Izzy realized exactly how little he knew about dating.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Axl Rose/Izzy Stradlin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>My Assorted and Very Dirty One-Shots [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Izzy Has a Very Attractive New Neighbor and Duff Helps Him Out.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">

        <li>
          Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005554">Izzy的新邻居，或者说，Duff McKagan是如何让他的嬉皮奶奶朋友拥有性生活的【授权翻译】</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Realdian/pseuds/Realdian">Realdian</a>
        </li>


    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If you order a salad for dinner one more time I’m going to fucking kill you.” Slash had invited him, Duff, and Steven out bar hopping, claiming they all needed some quality bro time. Izzy had agreed to come for dinner but had created an elaborate excuse for leaving early since he wasn’t a big fan of bar hopping. Due partly to the fact that he wasn’t much of a party and stay up until two in the morning person, but mostly due to the fact that pretty much any physical activity- which included dancing as well as the simple act walking between bars- left him completely exhausted. Benefits of being a twenty-four-year-old anemic. You got to be the no-fun friend. </p><p>Izzy did end up ordering a kale salad, invoking lighthearted teasing from his friends. Steven and Slash ordered a massive cheese pizza and an even larger plate of wings, the same thing they always ordered at Dough Pizzeria. Duff went crazy over the fact that the place now made pasta with “Vodka in it, Izzy! They’ve put fucking vodka in pasta! This is the greatest day of my life!” Izzy then pretended not to notice as Duff slowly leaned back in his seat to check out the waitress’s ass as she walked away, as well as the fact that Steven was currently emptying the entire container of parmesan onto his half of the pizza. He did not want to seem like a spoil-sport to the rest of his friends. His social life was bad enough as it was. Izzy tried to focus on eating his salad.</p><p>It was a decent-sized salad, but not nearly as big as Duff’s pasta and nowhere near the size of the mountain of food Slash and Steven had ordered. Steven apparently took this to mean that he didn’t have enough food because the blonde tried to offer him a slice of pizza. Izzy politely declined.</p><p>“Don’t bother Stevie. I took Izzy to a smoothie place and the fucker ordered a smoothie with beets in it.” Duff went on to wrap an arm around Izzy’s shoulders and drag him into a side-hug. “I fucking love you man, but sometimes I feel like you’re secretly some old hippie woman in her sixties that just looks like the handsome man we can all see.”</p><p>“Sorry I’m trying to stay healthy while my body works overtime in an attempt to kill me,” Izzy retorted, squirming in Duff’s grip to get an arm free so he could continue to eat his meal. He knew Duff meant well, but the guy could be a little too affectionate sometimes; keeping to himself the thought that he wasn’t really the picture of beauty, what with a body that looked like a piece of uncooked spaghetti and a complexion that was too pale on good days and could become yellowish and pasty on bad ones. </p><p>After dinner, Duff offered to give him a ride home. Not wanting to be a burden to his friend, Izzy declined. It was less than a mile back to his apartment, he could walk. Which he did, only moderately exhausted by the time he entered the lobby of the apartment building. The shitty building, always eager to please, was kind enough to offer him a nice surprise upon his entrance. Two sheets of white printer paper, with the words “Sorry, Out of Order” printed in neat lettering, were taped to the doors of the elevators. Fuck. </p><p>Gripping the handrail, so that in case he collapsed he wouldn’t go tumbling down the stairs, Izzy began the painful ascent to his fourth-floor apartment. Fighting against the overwhelming exhaustion that made his legs feel like they were made of jello and his knees threaten to give out, Izzy managed to drag himself up the first two flights of stairs. The third flight was harder, but he tried to grit his teeth and bear it. He was a grown-ass man, he could manage a few flights of stairs. Or at least, that was what he told himself until his legs gave out and he slid down the wall to curl up into a hunched, sitting position in the third-floor landing, breathing heavily. </p><p>Izzy sat in the stairwell for a couple of minutes, trying to gather the strength to pull himself back up and get to his apartment so he could take a nice warm shower and go to sleep. He didn’t bother to look when he heard the metallic echo of footsteps coming up the stairs- he had good enough relationships with most of his neighbors that he was pretty sure they wouldn’t question the fact that he was slumped over in what probably appeared to be some sort of drug-induced half-awareness. What he was not prepared for was a gorgeous looking man he’d never seen before with shimmering sunset-colored hair carrying a heavy-looking box to nearly trip over him. </p><p>“What the fuck!? Jesus Christ, man, are you alright?” The box safely set aside, the guy bent down over him, offering Izzy an arm up. </p><p>For someone who didn’t have enough red blood cells to even make it up a few flights of stairs, it was apparently still possible for Izzy to blush tomato red. Go figure. “Oh, um, yeah.” Izzy took a deep breath and gathered his remaining strength- which wasn’t very much, grabbed the man’s hand, prayed that his hand didn’t feel as sweaty as he thought it did, and pulled himself up. “Sorry for uh, tripping you there.”</p><p> </p><p>Axl had been having a shitty day. First, he had spent the last four days driving all the way into LA from fucking Lafayette in his shitty car with a broken air-conditioner and his pissy cat, Dexter. Upon arriving at what would be his new apartment, he was handed piles of paperwork to go through, all of which boiled down to him agreeing to pay rent and not trash the place with crazy meth parties. Then he had been tasked with figuring out how to carry all his stuff up four flights of stairs since the elevators appeared to be broken. Not that he had that much stuff, mostly just clothing and records and the few kitchen items he had managed to acquire either as gifts or by stealing them from his mother’s house before he left. Dexter, to show his appreciation for Axl's decision to drive him two-thirds of the way across the continent, decided to take a shit in the middle of his new apartment. That had been fun to clean up. Upon opening his suitcase, he had discovered that one of his makeup compacts had broken open, spilling loose powder all over everything and making his nonexistent coke habit look way worse than it was.</p><p>It was now somewhere around eight or nine in the evening and he was just bringing the last box up the four flights of stairs when Axl nearly tripped over what appeared to be a man in his early twenties napping on the third-floor landing. His first thought was one of criticism towards the apartment complex. Did they really let homeless, smack-addicted hippies just roam about the building? The guy didn't particularly look homeless though. He looked more clinically ill. Letting loose a probably uncalled for string of expletives, he asked if the guy was alright, setting down the box of books and records he was carrying.</p><p>Reaching out a hand, Axl helped the man up, too busy admiring his face to pay attention to the mumbled apology. The guy was hot, with delicate features and dark eyes. Noticing the other man's flush, Axl turned the awkward hand-holding into a firm handshake. Oh yeah, he was smooth. The guy still looked like he would collapse the second Axl let go of him though. It was mildly concerning. </p><p>"Are you alright?" The man flushed harder, pulling his hand away. He swayed slightly but managed to keep his footing.</p><p>"Oh, um, yeah. I just, uh, haven't been getting as much sleep as I should be." </p><p>"Yeah, for the past five years maybe," Axl thought, but he didn't say that. Instead, he replied, "Yeah, I get that. I just came out here from Indiana, four days of solid driving. It was a nice surprise to find the elevators were all broken." Axl bent over to pick his box back up while the man laughed. His laugh was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and Axl was tempted to tell him so, but didn't. </p><p>They began to ascend the stairs, Axl struggling under the weight of paper and vinyl. Pretending not to notice how the guy was gripping the handrail like some sort of lifeline, he decided to strike up some conversation. “Now that we’ve known each other for a full two minutes, my name’s Axl. How about you?”</p><p>“Izzy. I live in the first apartment on the left if you’re coming up from the elevators.” Izzy bit the side of his cheek and Axl thought it was the cutest thing ever. It was getting harder to keep his pervy thoughts to himself. He hoped Dexter wouldn’t mind when he unloaded his all dirty fantasies to the cat. </p><p>“I think I’m in the apartment across from you. You’re four-nineteen right?” </p><p>Izzy’s mouth twisted. Axl wondered if he was having the same immature thought that he was. “Yep. Apartment four-nineteen.”</p><p>They continued up the stairs in a comfortable silence. Axl was quiet because he was resisting the urge to make lewd comments. He wasn’t sure why Izzy wasn’t talking. The silence was nice though, so he didn’t press it. Izzy still looked like he might collapse at any second, but he didn’t press that either. They reached their respective apartments and Axl turned to fumble with his keys. “Hey, if you need anything or just want to hang out or whatever, feel free to drop by.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.” Izzy was fiddling with his own keys. “It was nice meeting you.”</p><p>Axl was busy fighting with Dexter while the cat tried to escape down the hallway, so he wasn’t busy keeping up his verbal filter. “Nice meeting you too Sweetheart,” he replied before entering his apartment and closing the door. Then he mentally kicked himself. Way to creep out the cute guy across the hall. Two gold stars for him. </p><p> </p><p>Izzy wasn’t sure what to make of his new neighbor. Well, he knew what he wanted to think. He wanted to think that all of Axl’s little comments and clandestine touches were intentional and Axl was genuinely interested. There was, of course, a slight problem with that hope. Why would anyone, especially someone as good looking as Axl, want him? He knew what he looked like, he owned a mirror. And so, instead of getting his hopes up, Izzy chose to believe that Axl was just teasing him, or that Axl just acted that way with everyone, and tried to laugh it off and hide how much the little comments about his smile or his eyes made his stomach turn into the butterfly exhibit at the local zoo. </p><p>His friends, of course, were no help at all. Slash told him to just go for it. Steven had wholeheartedly agreed, then offered Izzy a taste of his strawberry ice cream. He had carefully licked it so that it resembled the shape of a woman’s vulva. Izzy declined and tried to hide his discomfort when Slash grabbed the cone and began eating out the ice cream very aggressively. He didn’t need to be labeled a prude on top of “hippie grandma”. </p><p>“Maybe he has a thing for guys with stupid hair and geriatric vibes,” Duff offered. “Stop being a coward and ask him out.” Izzy was not a coward. He just had a good sense of what was attainable and what was wishful thinking. And he liked his dreadlocks.</p><p>Izzy had successfully tiptoed around his neighbor for a good six weeks before Axl cornered him while he was doing his laundry. He really wished Axl had picked a different time. The sweatpants and thin t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide the fact that he looked like a skeleton with nearly translucent skin stretched over it. Maybe he should get a job at a haunted house. He looked enough like a dead body to pull it off. Axl himself looked gorgeous as always, but Izzy tried not to think about that. He didn’t need to be a blushing mess today. </p><p>“Do you want to go out clubbing Saturday night?” Izzy nearly dropped the hamper he was holding. Maybe Axl did have a thing for guys with alternative hair and geriatric vibes.</p><p>“With you?” Apparently, instead of supplying his brain with the oxygen it needed to make conversation his body decided to use all the blood in his body to paint his cheeks and nose red. Because that was his life.</p><p>“No, with Courtney Love. Who else would you be going with?” Izzy didn’t know if his legs were getting weak due to Axl’s desire-filled gaze or just due to being anemic. </p><p>There were all sorts of reasons he shouldn’t agree. First, his alcohol tolerance was horrible. Second, his dancing was even worse. Additionally, he was prone to headaches from the loud music and crappy lighting, didn’t particularly like staying up late, and had no idea what the current music scene was. This was all assuming that he would have the energy to last the evening. It would be a real confidence boost if he collapsed on one of the walks between bars. This was exactly the kind of outing he came up with excuses to avoid. “Yeah, I’d, um, love to.”</p><p>“Wonderful, Sweetheart. I’ll pick you up at six.”</p><p>By one o’clock Saturday Izzy was having a mental breakdown. He had desperately gone through his entire wardrobe four times, with still no idea what he was doing. Clothing he had thought was at least mildly flattering now appeared hideous. As a last resort, he had frantically called Duff, who had congratulated him for no longer being a coward before saying that he would be over at around four and that he should “chill the fuck out before he gave himself a heart attack”. It was now around four-twenty-three and Izzy was still nowhere near chill.</p><p>Trying desperately to obtain a state of calm, Izzy decided to hide in the corner of his apartment with a blanket over his head, close his eyes, and just breathe. He had over an hour to get ready, it would be fine. Then the doorbell rang and Izzy almost jumped out of his skin. It was only Duff, carrying several shopping bags which he set down on the bed.</p><p>“Holy shit Izzy, I know you’re trying to live a clean and healthy life but maybe you should start taking valium. You look like you could use a couple.” Duff began unloading the bags. “I knew your makeup and wardrobe would be lacking, and since I’m a nice friend, I went out and bought you a couple of things.” He set a pair of purple boots with a shimmery metallic finish and a six-inch heel on the bed. </p><p>“I don’t wear makeup,” Izzy replied dryly, picking up the shoes. “What the fuck are these? You don’t honestly expect me to be able to last two minutes in six-inch heels do you?”</p><p>“No, those are for me.” Duff snatched them back. “It was impossible for me to find a foundation light enough for you, so I bought myself a present instead. Thank god you have clear skin or we’d have to get creative. Now, I’m assuming by the panicked state of your phone call that you don’t have an outfit picked out, so I got a few more options for you.”</p><p>Duff wasn’t actually helping him calm down. In fact, he was starting to do the opposite. Izzy tried to take a few deep breaths and resist the urge to tremble violently. Tonight was going to end in disaster, he just knew it. He was going to say something stupid, or embarrass himself, or collapse from exhaustion and Axl would realize he was wasting his time. This was the only chance he had been given since highschool to actually go on a date and he was going to fuck it up. Izzy wished, not for the first time, that he could just be fucking normal for once. </p><p>“Hey, Izzy.” He could hear Duff talking but the words weren’t sinking in. “Izzy. Are you alright? You don’t look alright, maybe we should take a break for a minute and sit down?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Izzy forced out, trying to hide how very not-fine he was. “What were you saying about clothing?”</p><p>“I don’t believe that for two seconds.” Duff manhandled Izzy so that he was sitting down on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t very hard to do. “What’s gotten your one-hundred-percent eco-friendly panties in a twist?”</p><p>Izzy was grateful that Duff was still joking around. If Duff had gone full soothing-therapist mode on him, he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it together. “What if I mess everything up? What if he finds out that I’m a loser with no friends and no idea how to party? What if I do something stupid? What if I suddenly collapse from exhaustion in the middle of the date?”</p><p>“You do too have friends!” Duff looked affronted. “What the fuck do you think I am? A random stranger that still shows up with fifty dollars worth of stuff to help you get ready for a big date because I hate your guts?”</p><p>“He’s taking me clubbing Duff, do you know how many different ways that can go wrong?” Izzy groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.</p><p>Duff punched him. Not hard, more in a “stop being a dumbass” kind of way. “No, you’re gonna go out, have a good time, schedule date number two with Hottie McHotface, then tomorrow you are going to call me and tell me all the smutty details.”</p><p>Smutty details hadn’t even occurred to him. But before Izzy had time to panic about that, Duff started talking again. “Now, you’ve clearly been left alone to think about things for far too long, so you are going to eat the yogurt and granola I brought you because I doubt you’ve eaten anything since breakfast and then we shall go about turning you into the sexiest geriatric hippie the universe has ever seen.”</p><p>Izzy meekly ate his yogurt while Duff finished unloading the shopping bags, setting out a pair of black jeans and a small pile of makeup items that Izzy didn’t really know the use of, then turning to aggressively drink his coffee while going through Izzy’s closet himself, throwing shirts into a pile. He paused halfway through the closet to pull out an item and hold it up to Izzy. It was the oversized white and blue surf poncho he had bought a few years ago on impulse and subsequently forgotten about. “What the fuck is this?”</p><p>“It’s a shirt.” Duff was starting to laugh in disbelief. “I bought it a while ago and forgot about it- what the hell is wrong with you Duff?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Duff was curled over clutching his stomach and wheezing slightly, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He looked a bit like he might throw up. “You’re just more of a hippie than I thought you were.”</p><p>Izzy groaned at the immaturity of his friend. “Put back the shirt and help me! I have only fifty-eight minutes until Axl shows up!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, calm down, I’ll get you ready for your date in time.” Duff was still chuckling. Izzy found it very annoying. “Have some confidence in me.”</p><p>Going back to nervously eating his yogurt, Izzy watched as Duff continued to sort through his wardrobe. There was a growing pile of rejected articles of clothing on the floor. After about ten minutes, Duff stepped back, appraisingly. “Well, this a more dire situation than I thought. Fortunately, I had the foresight to plan ahead.”</p><p>Duff then proceeded to go over to one of the shopping bags and pull out an article of clothing that made Izzy’s blood run cold and his face flush pink. “I was at Slash’s place when you called and he was kind enough to lend you this shirt.” </p><p>The article of clothing- which, in Izzy’s opinion didn’t have enough fabric to constitute it being anything more than a scarf- was a button-down “shirt” made of fairly transparent black lace. It did not surprise him at all that Slash, and also Duff, would wear it out clubbing, but there was no way in hell he was walking out of his apartment with only that between the general public and his chest. Plus, it didn’t look very warm. Or retained any heat at all. Duff, clearly sensing Izzy’s disapproval, put the shirt down. “First, you should try on the jeans I bought you. If they don’t fit we’re gonna have to go return them and get you a pair that fit right.”</p><p>“I have multiple pairs of jeans already,” Izzy protested as Duff pushed him towards his bathroom with the new jeans. </p><p>Duff rolled his eyes. “Yes, if you were dressing up as a mom in her forties, you would have many suitable pairs of jeans.” </p><p>The jeans were quite a bit tighter than Izzy was used to, and it took him a few minutes to get his underwear to lie flat underneath the denim. A wave of insecurity washed over him when he looked in the mirror. The tightness of the jeans seemed to accentuate the fact that his legs had about the shapeliness of a pair of chopsticks. Additionally, the color seemed to bring out the fact that he had the complexion of someone who had spent the last five years buried in a coffin. Hesitantly, he stepped back out into the main room of his apartment. He opened his mouth to tell Duff that he didn’t like the pants, but Duff interrupted him.</p><p>“Jesus Christ Izzy, you’re not supposed to wear your underwear with them.” Duff was hustling Izzy back towards the bathroom when Duff’s statement registered. </p><p>“Not supposed to wear- Duff what the fuck!” </p><p>“Underwear leaves weird creases and wrinkles in jeans this tight. Plus, it’s better for getting busy with sexy dates.” Duff wiggled his eyebrows. Izzy’s discomfort continued to rise.</p><p>To say Izzy was scandalized was an understatement. He knew his friends were dirty-minded, but he hadn’t really realized what that entailed. Why would someone willingly choose to not wear underwear!? How long had this been a thing? Was going underwear-less the standard for dates? What else had he been unaware of? </p><p>Suddenly feeling a lot more anxious than he had been only moments previous, Izzy quickly changed again. It didn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would, but he still felt exposed. At least the shirt he was currently wearing was long enough that everything was still mostly hidden.</p><p>Just as he thought this, Duff opened the door a crack and passed him the black lace shirt. “While you’re in there, put the shirt on too. Then we can do your makeup and pick out a bit of jewelry.”</p><p>The shirt was just as exposing as Izzy had predicted it would be. He could see how this outfit could be considered attractive on an attractive person, but on him it just put everything he hated about himself on full display. The darkness of the lace and denim only accentuated the sickly paleness of his skin and the outfit seemed to show off the fact that he had about zero percent muscle and even less body fat. Trying to keep his breathing at least slower than hyperventilation while attempting to cover everything with his arms as much as possible, he tentatively exited the bathroom.</p><p>Duff had already laid out several jewelry items and the makeup he had brought on the bed, carefully sorting through necklaces, not seeming to notice Izzy. Trying to keep it together, Izzy spoke to get his attention. “Well? What do you think?”</p><p>His voice cracked embarrassingly halfway through and Duff looked up, clearly concerned. Before Izzy could do anything, he was wrapped up in a hug. Giving up on keeping it together, it wasn’t working anyway, he fell against his friend, thoughts and insecurities spilling out in a babbling mess. Duff just stood there and patted his back, waiting for him to calm down again.</p><p>“Hey, Izzy, it’s all going to be alright.” Duff gave him one last squeeze before stepping back. “I can’t imagine a universe where Axl would look at you in this outfit and not immediately want to fuck- uh- kiss you, but if it is going to make you this uncomfortable, we can swap the black lace out for a white t-shirt and pair it with some necklaces, okay? Don’t worry, I’m not going to let you leave the apartment looking anything less than heart-stoppingly gorgeous.”</p><p>The white t-shirt still didn’t do much to hide the fact that he was the closest thing to a noodle with arms that a person could get and no matter how many times he tugged it down the bottom hem kept riding up to show a small line of skin between it and his jeans, but it was far better than the black lace shirt that hid even less. </p><p>“Did your ear piercings ever close up?” In their junior year of high school, Duff had somehow managed to persuade him into getting both his ears and nose pierced with a safety pin in the McKagan’s basement at three in the morning, which had been about as unsafe as it sounded. Izzy quite liked the nose piercing, but earings were uncomfortable to sleep in and he often forgot to put a pair in. </p><p>Duff had selected a necklace he had bought at an art show a few months before that was created from several large dark brown buttons strung together, a thinner necklace made of a variety of small wooden beads, a variety of bracelets, and small silver hoop earrings. He then made Izzy brush his teeth again so that his breath didn’t smell like yogurt when he kissed Axl. Izzy was tempted to spit his mouthful of toothpaste into Duff’s face for that comment, but he didn’t. Izzy was then pushed into a chair and told to close his eyes. </p><p>Trusting someone, even as good a friend as Duff, with such objects as an eyeliner pencil and mascara wand so close to his eyes was not something Izzy was good at. Duff had to stop several times to yell at Izzy to stop blinking. After twenty minutes of various makeup products being smeared on his face, Duff declared his work finished and let Izzy look in the mirror.</p><p>For all the time Duff had spent obsessing over Izzy’s face, he hadn’t really changed much. Izzy was thankful for that, he wasn’t really a makeup guy, and his main concern with the stuff was that it would make his face look like someone else’s. Apparently, Duff had picked up on this; the only noticeable change Izzy could notice was that color had been added back into his lips and his eyes were now carefully lined with dark brown eyeliner. Duff had known what he was doing, even if he had spent the time making fun of Izzy’s own fashion choices. He was still nowhere close to heart-stoppingly gorgeous, Duff was not a miracle worker, Izzy hoped that he looked at least slightly less repulsive and maybe two fewer people would wonder what someone like him was doing next to someone as beautiful as Axl. </p><p>To distract himself from his insecurities, Izzy checked the clock and had his fifth near heart attack of the day. He had less than ten minutes until Axl came by to pick him up. While Duff packed up his stuff, Izzy frantically pushed all the clothing and jewelry they had left on the bed into his closet. He then made Duff hide in the bathroom and promise to wait ten minutes after he left in case he chickened out. Duff told him that if he chickened out he was going to be in quite a bit of trouble. Izzy didn’t really care, he was too busy panicking.</p><p>At six-o-one, the doorbell rang and Izzy nearly screamed. Ignoring Duff’s muffled laughter, Izzy answered it, hoping he wasn’t blushing as hard as he thought he was. Fighting to keep his heart from bursting its way out of his throat, Izzy made a desperate attempt to act chill. “Hello, Axl. How, uh, how are you?”</p><p>Axl’s gaze swept over him in a way that made Izzy want to run and hide. Or at least make another attempt at pulling his shirt down lower. Before he could do that, however, Axl grabbed his hand and gave it a kiss before lacing their fingers together. “I’m doing great, how about you?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Izzy's Very Attractive Neighbor Takes Him Dancing and Duff's Work Pays Off</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am sorry this took so long to update. A lot of my life has been up in the air throughout the month of March and I still don't really know what the fuck is going to happen for foreseeable future. I'm going to try and keep writing happy fanfiction so that those of you trying to escape reality can continue to have new material with which to do that. I hope you all are doing alright and are maintaining social distancing. Also WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS. I have concerts at the beginning of august I want to go to.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doing great was an understatement. The pants Izzy was wearing left almost nothing to the imagination and the white t-shirt he was wearing left a teasing sliver of his stomach exposed. Then Izzy said something like “hey, how are you” and Axl had to remind himself not to be a total pervert. Instead, he made what he would consider a decent attempt at chivalry and kissed the back of Izzy’s hand. He felt like Izzy was the kind of guy who would appreciate little romantic gestures like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl would be the first to admit that he didn’t really have a plan when it came to taking Izzy out. The plan he did have somewhat relied on Izzy knowing more about LA nightlife than he did, seeing as Axl had only lived in California for a little more than a month and a half. He hoped Izzy liked middle eastern food. The plan went like this. Axl would take Izzy to this little restaurant he had found called the Halal Guys that served really good pita sandwiches. Then the two of them would walk to the only nightclub Axl could find that played decent music while eating their sandwiches. And maybe Izzy would let him run his fingertips over that teasing sliver of skin that kept taunting him. Once again, Axl reminded himself not to be a perv.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy was really interesting, Axl was coming to discover. Well, he had always known Izzy was interesting on a physical level, but Izzy was really smart too. Not in the school driven way, Izzy didn’t really seem to be a history buff or anything like that, but he was good at knowing what to say and word choice and that type of shit. Good at carrying a conversation. It made him even cuter. Axl told him about his haphazard trip across the country and the shenanigans his cat would get up to. Izzy replied with stories about how he played the guitar and the crazy plans his friends had come up with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking another bite of his falafel sandwich, Izzy tried to pay attention to Axl’s story about how his cat got loose in the car while he was stuck in traffic on I-70 somewhere in Colorado. He hoped wherever Axl was taking him wasn’t too far away, his legs were starting to ache. Axl was being a bit distracting himself, wearing shiny black leather pants that Izzy wasn’t going to think about and a jacket also made of black leather. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding along to what Axl was saying, laughing at the funny parts and agreeing with his frustration when appropriate, Izzy was able to tamp down his discomfort until they reached the bar. Axl held the door open for him like a true gentleman and Izzy practically swooned. They were soon seated at the bar, Axl ordering two beers and Izzy pretending he knew what IPA meant. Sitting was great though. Izzy could sit in Axl’s company all night. Even though IPA turned out to mean really bitter, and he wound up taking really tiny, infrequent sips of it and only finished about half before Axl grabbed his hand and led him over to a small area where people were dancing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy was terrible at dancing. He understood how to feel the beat of the music, and that you were supposed to dance to the beat and not the lyrics. And that was where his knowledge ended and his embarrassment started to take over. Sure, Axl didn’t seem to mind that Izzy’s self-consciousness was pretty much preventing him from doing anything besides sway back and forth a little bit or the fact that his face was likely bright red, but the crowd of other people dancing probably had and the swirling lights and loud music combined with the fact that he was exhausted didn’t help to tamp down his strong desire to get out of the bar. Except Axl was looking like he was really enjoying it, so Izzy tried to keep his discomfort to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After around forty minutes of pretending like he was good at dancing, Izzy’s legs felt wobbly and he needed to get away from the crowd of people. The music was loud though, and the sound of voices even louder, so he ended up having to shout to get his attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Axl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” The music switched to a slower song and Axl pulled him closer so that they were almost hugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Izzy really enjoyed being held in Axl’s arms, he also really needed to get out of the loud, crowded bar and just breathe some fresh air and sit down for a minute. “I need to go outside for a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too crowded in here. Could we step outside for a few minutes?” Izzy gestured in the general direction of where he thought the door was to get his point across.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Axl looked a little too excited at his suggestion, but Izzy didn’t think much of it. He just desperately needed to get somewhere that was less crowded and quieter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wound up in a small alleyway behind the bar. The sun had gone down, but it was still decently lit, light spilling from street lamps and windows. More importantly, there were some steps leading up to a door that was probably a delivery entrance of some kind. It didn’t really matter what the door was used for though, what mattered was that it gave Izzy a place to sit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy heard Axl sit down next to him, and insecurity flared up again. Normal people didn’t just randomly ditch a bar to hang out in back alleys. Axl was probably really confused and thought he was a complete nutcase. But before he could come up with an explanation, Axl had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer, reaching out to grab his hand and press another kiss to the back of it. “Why’d you want to come out here Izzy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm…” Izzy wracked his brain for an explanation that didn’t summarize to “I’m a complete loser who doesn’t have the energy to dance for extended periods of time”. His embarrassment was reaching uncharted heights, and Axl’s repeated glances at his mouth didn’t help. He licked his lips nervously and Axl’s gaze seemed to track the motions of his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spluttering around for an explanation, what Axl said next took Izzy completely by surprise. “Hey, Izzy. Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, yeah, sure, I mean, if you want-” Izzy closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl gave him about five milliseconds to prepare, which Izzy spent desperately trying to remember the few kisses he had received in the past and what he was supposed to do. Then there were two hands cupping his face and rough fingertips tracing over his jawline and Axl’s lips were pressed against his and it was amazing. The kisses kept coming and coming, and Izzy couldn’t get enough of them. He wasn’t sure how they ended up standing, but the kisses were intoxicating and Izzy couldn’t get enough of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rough brick of the building scraped against Izzy’s shoulders through the thin material of his shirt and he suddenly realized he was sandwiched between Axl and a wall, his wrists pinned above his head. He gasped, startled, and Axl used that opportunity to lick his way past his lips, tongue scraping against the roof of his mouth. It caught Izzy by surprise and he tilted his head back to catch his breath, but he forgot the building was right behind him and didn’t accomplish anything besides maybe rubbing some of the dirt from the wall into his dreadlocks and exposing his neck to Axl, who went after it with open-mouthed kisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at this point, pressed up against the wall with Axl’s path of kisses rapidly approaching his collarbone and fingers tracing along his lower back just underneath the hemline of his shirt, that Izzy realized what was happening. Axl thought they had stepped outside because Izzy wanted to ...make out. Yeah, he wasn’t so embarrassed that he couldn’t even think the words in the privacy of his own head. That would be ridiculous. Not that he would be opposed to making out with Axl. Or… other things- yep, no embarrassment there at all- but his self-consciousness was working overtime in order to overrule any desire to partake in the… other things. It was almost enough to keep his dick from getting hard and straining painfully against the too-tight jeans he was wearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy was just about to ask exactly what... other things- Axl was planning, when rough fingertips that had previously been gently pressing on his back dipped lower beneath the waistline of his jeans and strong hands pulled his hips forward. Fortunately, Izzy didn't lose his balance. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately- Izzy was undecided, this meant that Axl's crotch was pressed right up against his dick and oh crap, Axl could definitely feel his erection through the denim and leather between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey." How Axl's voice managed to pull Izzy out of his own head was anyone's guess. "Izzy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeahuh?" Yeah, he could come up with eloquent and sexy responses. Izzy’s dirty-talk game was top-notch. How could it not be, with his minimal experience and overwhelming embarrassment?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl pulled back a little and Izzy tried to ignore the sudden overwhelming urge to pull him closer. "Are you still enjoying yourself? You've been getting kinda tense."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Him? Tense? Pffft, no. Izzy tried desperately to relax and make his inner panic less noticeable. As far as what Axl was doing, Izzy was having the time of his life. It was only the fact that he was still trapped in his own head that was making him nervous. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'm, uh, fine. I've been enjoying what you've been, um, doing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want to go further?" Say no, say no, say no, say no, say no. Don't go and embarrass yourself further. Just keep things at the makeout level. No need to move forward to- other things- when you're perfectly happy now. Just say no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?" Izzy peeped out timidly, wishing his voice sounded more confident. But Axl's hands were already running down his thighs as he lowered himself onto his knees, the heat of his palms hot on Izzy's legs, even through the denim. He traced his hands back up to the waistline of Izzy’s pants, thumbs gently brushing over the delicate skin between the jeans and the t-shirt. Izzy let out a shaky breath and tried not to tremble under Axl’s touch. Maybe he should do something with his hands so that he wasn’t standing there awkwardly while Axl pressed feather-light kisses to the fly of his jeans. Izzy attempted what he thought was a maybe intimate gesture and ran his fingers through Axl’s hair, tracing over his features carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl seemed to like it, letting out a noise that was mostly muffled by denim and reaching out to undo his pants. Izzy’s response to this was to squeeze his eyes shut and turn his face upwards so he wouldn’t have to see Axl’s reaction. The feeling of the button pop and the zipper being pulled down nearly made him scream- whether from excitement or embarrassment Izzy didn’t know- but he managed to muffle it with the side of his hand just in time. He felt Axl let out a breathy chuckle and he glanced down worriedly, still biting the edge of his thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No underwear?” Axl was grinning up at him, and this time Izzy couldn’t hold back the moan at the feeling of a hand wrapping around his dick. Then, realizing what Axl had said, he felt his face grow uncomfortably warm. Blinking, Izzy tried to clear his mind from the haze of pleasure that was currently smothering him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No… uh, I… um,” His wordless floundering was cut off by a moan when Axl leaned down and- licked up the… uh… precum. “I, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S dirty.” Axl lowered his mouth back down to give a few more teasing licks before pulling off again. “I like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of Axl’s mouth wrapped around his dick was starting to overtake the feeling of embarrassment, so Izzy looked down again, meeting Axl’s gaze and flushing harder. The sight of his dick dripping with saliva while it slid in and out past Axl’s cherry-colored lips was easily the most erotic image he had ever witnessed and Izzy felt another moan break free from his mouth, a sound that started off loud and faded into a whimper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy felt himself quickly approaching the breaking point watching Axl, so he tried focusing his gaze back toward the overhanging roof of the building in an attempt to slow down his sudden rush of feelings. This technique didn’t seem to help all that much, since now all of Izzy’s focus was suddenly zeroed in on the feeling of the warm wetness of Axl’s mouth and the way his skin seemed to light up with tiny pin-pricks of heat as one of Axl’s hands traced around to feel up his lower back before carefully dipping underneath the denim of his jeans. The sensation caused him to shudder, and he involuntarily glanced back down to see that Axl had gotten his own pants open and was busy using his right hand to jerk off while his mouth continued to slide wetly up and down his dick, often circling back to give special attention to the head. So that meant his left hand- Izzy tried to muffle his scream when he felt Axl’s fingertips gently dip between his asscheeks and press against his entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, Izzy would not consider himself as a person who cursed or said vulgar things. And admittedly, the words and phrases spilling out of his mouth as Axl hummed against his dick while slightly rough fingertips carefully nudged against his entrance weren’t what some people would consider that dirty or vulgar, in any other situation they would have made Izzy uncomfortable. Somehow, through the magic of dick-sucking, Axl had managed to delete everything in his vocabulary except ‘fuck’, ‘please’, ‘more’ and ‘Axl’. Izzy wasn’t sure how that happened. If his mind had been less fogged over with pleasure, he probably would have beat himself up over not being able to find a more genuine and eloquent response to what Axl was doing. Instead, Izzy was reduced to mumbling profanities and sometimes mere noises as he watched Axl bob his head in time to the rhythm with which he was stroking himself off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pleasure kept building and building with each press of Axl’s fingers and each moment his mouth remained wrapped around Izzy’s dick. He knew he was close to finishing and Izzy tried to hold himself back, scrambling to find the words to properly communicate “If you don’t pull away soon I’m going to cum down your throat” to Axl before lust completely took over and he lost control. Izzy only managed to let out a variety of noises, some of which maybe resembled the words ‘Axl’ and ‘cum’ before pleasure cut him off with a scream and he felt himself explode into Axl’s mouth, trembling shivers coursing through his legs. He felt Axl swallow-moan against him, which only served to make his now extremely sensitive dick more sensitive, and managed to glance down to see Axl himself cumming on the dirty pavement beneath them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl waited a few moments before standing up, kissing Izzy’s mouth gently. If he focused, Izzy could almost taste himself against the lips that were carefully pushing against his own. They stayed pressed against each other for a few moments, Izzy trying to catch his breath while Axl pressed tender kisses to his lips, fingers gently toying with the ends of his dreadlocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Izzy.” Axl’s voice was gentle, hands stroking over his shoulders and lower back. “We should get you cleaned up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he had pulled his pants back up and the two of them had resituated themselves to look like they hadn’t just had really amazing sex in the back alley behind a nightclub, Axl took his hand and pressed one last kiss to the backs of his fingers. “May I see you home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy had to force down a laugh at that. “Why all the chivalry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you suggesting I’m not just naturally chivalrous?” Axl asked in mock offense, before grinning at him. “I do it because you seem to like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flushing again, Izzy ducked his head in embarrassment. Axl was right, he did like it. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, unsure of how to continue, but Axl was kind enough to gently grasp his hand and begin steering him in the direction of their apartment building, reigniting the flow of conversation and letting Izzy wear his jacket when he started shivering from the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In retrospect, walking home after his legs had so recently threatened to give out in pleasure had probably been a bad idea. Hindsight twenty-twenty and all that. However, Izzy had been too busy floating in a post-orgasmic haze to think about it carefully. It was after that aura of fuzzy happiness had faded that he realized exactly how exhausted he was. Not wanting to embarrass himself in front of Axl yet another time, he tried to keep it contained and bite back the waves of fatigue shooting through his legs. The apartment building came into view and Izzy was so close to successfully not making a fool of himself, when it happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy had randomly collapsed from exhaustion exactly four times in his life. The first time had been in his senior year of high school, and had been the event that led him to seek out medical care in the first place. The second time, he had been alone in his brand new apartment and accidentally pulled a towel rack out of the wall in a desperate attempt to remain upright. The third time had been with Slash and Steven and while it had been embarrassing, it was nowhere near as humiliating as the fourth time. The fourth time he had gone out on his first date with Axl and collapsed less than a block away from the apartment building. He didn’t faint exactly, he was unlucky enough to remain conscious and watch Axl’s face go from surprise to panic, just one moment Izzy was walking next to his hot date and the next moment his face was a lot closer to the paved sidewalk than it had been two seconds before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit, Izzy! What the fuck happened!?” Axl kneeled down to look at him in concern and Izzy wanted to curl up and hide. “Are you okay!? Do you want me to call an ambulance!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t need to call an ambulance.” Tears burned at the corners of Izzy’s eyes, but he refused to acknowledge them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Axl was still looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Are you sure? Randomly collapsing doesn’t seem like something that should be a normal thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Izzy’s voice cracked halfway through and suddenly tears were spilling down his face, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. “I just need a few minutes to catch my breath and then I’ll be fine, it’s no big deal, really, it’s just-” And here was where Izzy broke down in tears and pretty much none of the words or noises coming out of his mouth made any sense at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In all honesty, Izzy expected Axl to get up and leave. And he wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. Who would want to hang out with a guy who didn’t even have the energy to make it through a single date? Instead, Axl sat down fully on the pavement and pulled Izzy into his lap, not seeming to care that he was getting tears and snot all over his shirt. He just gently rubbed a little circle between his shoulder blades and waited for Izzy to calm himself down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have this thing-” Izzy almost dissolved into another wave of tears but managed to pull himself together. “I have this thing where my body has a really hard time absorbing iron, and it basically means that I’m pretty much completely exhausted all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have it under control though. I’m on a medication and stuff.” Izzy tacked on at the end when Axl still looked doubtful. “I just kinda pushed myself a little too hard tonight, with the dancing and the, uh, other activities.” Because even though he was willing to partake in sex, he was still too embarrassed to say it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay the night with me,” Axl blurted out, interrupting Izzy’s quiet sniffling. At the look on his face, Axl offered up an explanation. “It was really fucking scary when you collapsed like that, Izzy. I wanna make sure you’re alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy had expected, after he had agreed to stay the night, that they would remain sitting on the sidewalk until he could push himself back up again. So, when Axl suddenly scooped him up and began carrying him towards the apartment, he may have made a few squeaking noises. Surprisingly, the lady at the front desk didn’t seem to care that Axl just walked in and headed up the stairs with Izzy thrown over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even with Izzy’s complaints that he could “walk just fine now, you can put me down,” Axl didn’t let go of him until they were up all four flights of stairs and down the hallway. Axl lent him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to sleep in, even though Izzy protested that his apartment was only four feet away. His protests were somewhat uncalled for anyway. Izzy wanted to wear Axl’s pajamas about as much as Axl seemed to want to see Izzy wear his pajamas. Being taken care of was kinda nice. Especially the part where he got to fall asleep wrapped up in Axl’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Izzy got back to his apartment at around noon the next day, he had five missed calls. The first one was from a drunk Steven, wishing him good luck on his date. The second was a call to tell him he had won a free cruise to the Bahamas; all he had to do was enter his name, birthday, and social security number. The next three calls were from an increasingly pissed off Duff asking how the date went. Guiltily, Izzy decided to call Duff, remembering that he had promised to tell him all of the “smutty details” whatever that meant. The phone rang for a pretty long time before Duff picked up. Izzy opened his mouth to start talking, but Duff interrupted him before he could say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So on a scale of one to ten, how’s Hottie McHotface with his tongue?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whoo, it has been a while since I've posted anything. Semester finals really take away your free time. Well, I hope you've all enjoyed this fic so far, I promise to have the second part posted soon, the more you harass me in the comments the faster I'll get it done.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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